Title: JAG’d and Spiked (1/1)
Pairing: None, really, but hints at W/S and H/M
Spoilers: None, really, though Dawn is here, so season 5 to be safe.
Summary: Spike watches his second favorite television show, and so does Harm.
Notes: This is just for fun! Written in response to an article I read in which James was quoted as saying “Unless you have an open mind, go watch ‘JAG’!” when talking about ‘Buffy’ not being your ‘average TV show’.
Feedback: It’s ALL about the feedback (and naked Spike)! Don’t make me beg, it’s not pretty.
Distribution: The Seduction of Spike, Soulmates, Willow’s Lil’ Secret, Shades of Gray, The BatPack Archives, Wacky Witch Willow, Rapture, and Shippers United. If anyone else wants it, please take it, just let me know.
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, just borrowing them for awhile. Everything belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kuzui Enterprises, Grr Argh, the WB, UPN and whoever else they really belong to, although I wouldn’t mind having a Spike of my own. Who would? I don't own anyone from 'JAG' either, and I don't know who does! The story is mine, though.
Thanks: Amanda, beta and grasshopper extraordinaire, and Karen.
Dedication: To James, of course!!
But isn't that annoying for him as an actor, working on a series that mainstream audiences find hard to take seriously? He shrugs off the stigma, believing that viewers have the intelligence to decide for themselves. "I think that that's the beautiful thing about the name of the show. Joss is such a rebel! He is daring you to be stupid not to check it out when he called it Buffy the Vampire Slayer. You know? I'm serious! Unless you have an open mind, go watch Jag!"
From The Spike Who Loved Me
an interview of James Marsters by Jayne Dearsley
for SFX #77, April 2001
“Hey, Mac.” Harm pulled the door to his apartment open after checking the peephole to see who was standing outside. “Something wrong?” he asked in concern. Most people knew enough to leave him alone on Tuesday evenings between eight and nine o’clock.
“No, nothing wrong,” the brunette Colonel who worked with Harm in the Judge Advocate General’s office said, stepping gracefully through the doorway. She was wearing a pair of black slacks and a red sweater.
“Then what are you doing here?” Harm shut the door and turned to her.
“Just figured I’d see what it is you do every Tuesday night.” She smiled at the taller man who was wearing blue jeans and a grey pullover.
“Oh, well...” Harm wondered if he could get away with lying to her, and then decided against it. “It’s just this television program that I like to watch, and I don’t like to be interrupted. There, now you know the big secret, you can leave!” He smiled innocently, gesturing toward the door.
“Yeah, right,” Mac said, as she moved into the living room and made herself comfortable on the couch. “So, what are you watching?” she asked.
Harm froze as the commercial ended and a voice said, “Previously, on Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”
Harm blushed as Mac looked over her shoulder at him in surprise.
“Buffy the Vampire Slayer?” she asked, eyebrows raised.
“Yes!” he said. “It’s a very good show.” He grabbed his bowl of popcorn and a soda, and reluctantly joined Mac on the couch. “Very intelligent dialogue. And funny. Popcorn?” He offered her the bowl.
“What do you bloody want!” Spike yelled, as he pulled the door to his crypt open. It was Tuesday night and his favorite show was coming on. Well, his favorite show besides Passions.
“Sorry to bother you,” Willow said. “I just wondered if you wanted company.” She tried to smile winningly at him.
“No!” he said, attempting to close the door.
“I brought you some blood,” Willow said, indicating the cooler she held, and Spike stayed his hand.
“Hand it over.” He stuck his hand out the door.
“And chips,” Willow added, holding up a bag. Spike’s eyes narrowed.
“What do you want, Red?” he sighed.
“I wanna know what you do on Tuesday nights that’s so important that you can’t help Buffy patrol,” she said.
“I patrol after...!” Spike stopped, realizing he’d almost given himself away.
“After what?” Willow asked. Spike growled.
“Get in here with the blood! And the chips. And close the bloody door behind you,” he added, as he stomped away from the door and threw himself into his ratty old chair.
Willow followed him into the crypt and carefully closed the door before walking over to the chair. She set the cooler of blood and bag of chips down on the dirt floor.
“Sit down if you’re staying,” Spike said without looking at her. “And keep your gob shut! I wanna be able to hear it.”
“Where do you want me to sit?” Willow asked, looking around. Spike reached out and pulled her down on his lap.
“Now, be quiet,” he hissed, as Willow shifted to get comfortable.
“I will,” she whispered.
Just then the commercial ended, and with the sound of a teletype, the words ‘1730 ZULU, USS Seahawk, Arabian Sea’ appeared at the bottom of the screen over the picture of a large ship sitting on roiling waves.
“JAG?!” Willow asked in surprise.
“Shh,” Spike said.
“You watch JAG?” she whispered.
“It’s a bloody good show,” he said. “Now be quiet and watch it. And hand me that bag of chips.”
“I can’t believe you watch ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’,” Mac said during the commercial, as she munched on popcorn.
“Why not?” Harm’s fingers brushed hers in the bowl as they both reached for more. “Uh, sorry, you go ahead.” Harm pulled his hand out and let Mac grab a handful before reaching back in the bowl.
“Well, I just can’t see you being interested in a television show that’s about...vampires,” Mac said. “You’re just so...so...”
“Uptight?” Harm suggested with a ‘agree-with-me-and-you’ll-be-sorry’ smile.
“Uh, no...not uptight...exactly.”
“You think I’m too mainstream?” Harm asked.
“Well, you are, sort of...”
“What, you don’t think I have an open mind?” His voice rose.
“Well...no, of course that’s not what I think,” Mac hesitated.
Just then the doorbell rang.
“Who could that be?” Harm asked.
“Might be Bud and Harriet,” Mac said. “They wanted to come over, too.”
“What?” Harm asked, as he got up to answer the door. He peeked through the peephole, and then swung the door open. “Sturgess?” he asked, surprised.
“Hey, Harm, sorry I’m late.” Sturgess stepped through the door. “Look who I ran into downstairs.” Bud and Harriet followed Sturgess into the apartment.
“Hello, Sir,” Bud said.
“Sir.” Harriet smiled.
“Bud, Harriet,” Harm greeted them. “We’re off-duty, you can call me Harm.” He smiled warmly, trying to hide his growing discomfort.
“Okay, sir, uh, Harm.” Harriet smiled back at him.
“Harm, I think it’s coming back on!” Mac called.
“Hey, Colonel!” Bud said, as he and Harriet walked over to the couch.
Harm waved Bud and Harriet to the couch beside Mac, Sturgess took the stuffed chair beside the couch, and Harm lowered himself to the floor next to Mac, leaning his back against the couch.
“Okay, everyone be quiet,” Harm said, his attention on the television.
“Popcorn, anyone?” Mac whispered, holding the bowl out.
There was a knock at the crypt door.
“I’m not answering it.” Spike frowned.
“Why not?” Willow asked from her spot on his lap.
“It’s the moron,” Spike replied, not taking his eyes off of the television, as if the commercial for some new tile cleaner were the most important thing in the world.
“I’ll get it.” Willow started to slide off of his lap.
“No!” Spike grabbed her waist and held her still. “I don’t bloody want...oh, hell!”
The crypt door slammed open, and Xander and Anya walked in.
“How come you didn’t answer the door, fangless?” Xander asked.
“That’s very rude,” Anya said.
“What are those?” Spike asked.
“Beanbag chairs,” Xander said, as he tossed his on the floor next to Spike’s chair, and then took Anya’s and did the same.
“I know...why did you bring them?” Spike growled.
“So we’d have something to sit on.” Xander plopped down. “Wills, did you bring any soda?”
“Yeah, in the cooler,” she said.
“Cool...oh, god, there’s blood in here!” Xander cried.
“Get me one, too,” Anya said.
“What kind of chips did you get?” Xander asked.
“Shh, program’s coming back on,” Spike said.
“JAG?” Anya said.
“It’s a bloody good show, now shut up so I can hear it!”
“Wow, Sir, I can’t believe you watch ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’!” Bud said. “That’s so cool! So, do you, like, go to conventions and stuff, too? I’ve been to a couple of Star Trek conventions and they’re awesome. You know, I heard that that actor who plays the blond vampire...what’s his name again?”
“Spike,” Mac told him. Harm tilted his head and looked up at her. “What? I have a good memory,” she said. “Plus, he’s really hot.” Harm just shook his head.
“Yeah, Spike,” Bud continued. “Anyway, I heard he was at a Star Trek convention this summer right up in Maryland, and there were more people there to see him than all the other guests combined. What’s his name again?” Bud frowned, snapping his fingers to try and help him remember. “James...James...Masters?”
“Marsters,” Harm corrected.
“That’s it! James Marsters. Big hit with the girls...or so I’ve heard.” He smiled at Harriet.
“No, Bud, I’ve never been to a convention. Thought about it, though, but didn’t want to go alone.”
“You were afraid to go alone?” Sturgess teased.
“I didn’t say I was ‘afraid’,” Harm denied. “Just never been to one before and didn’t want to go alone.”
“You fly fighter jets, you’ve been in the Gulf and in Afghanistan, but you didn’t want to go to a scifi convention by yourself?” Mac teased.
“Yeah, that about sums it up. Okay, it’s coming back on.”
Everyone settled down to watch the television.
“Oh, bloody hell! Now what?” Spike yelled, as the crypt door slammed open again. Buffy and Dawn entered.
“Hey, you guys,” Buffy said. “Sorry we’re late. Dawn had to finish her homework.”
“Hi, Spike,” Dawn said.
“Niblet,” Spike replied. “What are you doing here, Slayer?” he asked.
“Willow said we were having a party at your place,” Buffy innocently replied, as she unbagged the folding chairs she and Dawn had brought with them, setting them up on the other side of Spike’s chair.
Spike looked at Willow who whistled and stared at the ceiling of the crypt. “You really need to dust,” she commented.
“I’ll remember that, next time I’m having a party,” he said. Willow blushed, and then smiled at him.
“And we brought more chips.” Dawn held up the shopping bag. “‘Cause we figured Xander would already have eaten everything.”
“Hey!” Xander said. “I resemble that remark.”
“What’d you bring, Niblet?” Spike asked, taking the bag Dawn held out to him. “Ooh, I like these cracker things,” Spike said, reaching into the bag.
“What are we watching?” Dawn asked, as she sat in the chair closest to Spike.
“JAG,” Anya replied.
“JAG?” Buffy asked, as she sat beside Dawn. “Isn’t that about lawyers or something?”
“Very good, Slayer,” Spike scoffed.
“It’s a bloody good show.” Xander imitated Spike’s accent.
“Shut up, moron, it’s coming back on,” Spike settled back in his chair and pulled Willow back against his chest.
“Well,” Sturgess said, as the show ended and went to commercial. “That was very interesting. I wouldn’t have thought a show about vampires and vampire slayers could be so well-written.”
“That was excellent, Sir!” Bud enthused. “Harriet, do we get UPN?” he asked.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Bud,” Harm smiled at the other lawyer from his spot on the floor at Mac’s feet.
“Definitely!” the younger man said, as he stood. “We should do this again sometime. Harriet and I can bring the popcorn next time!” He helped his wife to her feet.
“That’d be fun,” Harriet said, and then turned to Harm. “That is, if you don’t mind, Sir.”
“Oh, absolutely not! Fun!” Harm agreed, rising to his feet to see his uninvited guests out.
“Goodnight, Sir!” Harriet bubbled, as Harm opened the door.
“Goodnight, Harriet, Bud. Sturgess.”
“Goodnight, Sir,” Bud said.
“Harm.” Sturgess tilted his head with a slight smile. “See you in the morning.”
Harm closed the door and walked back over to the couch. He plopped down next to Mac, and put his feet up on the coffee table.
“Who’s idea was this?” he asked.
“What?” Mac asked innocently.
“This impromptu gathering,” Harm said.
“Oh, well, Sturgess mentioned your Tuesday night thing, and I might have wondered aloud what it is you do, and Bud may have overheard and suggested we ask you, and Harriet may have told us to mind our own business, if you wanted us to know you’d tell us, and the next thing I knew we were making plans to meet here. Don’t know how that happened, really.” Mac smiled at him.
“Oh, the previews for next week!” Harm turned his attention back to the screen. “Good,” he mused, “looks like plenty of Spike and Willow in the next one. I really wish those two would get together, they’d be perfect for each other.”
“Maybe they have issues.” Mac leaned her head against Harm’s shoulder.
“Maybe they do.” He took her hand.
“It’s over!” Xander said. “It can’t be over already!”
“Nobody had sex,” Anya said. “Why do you watch it?”
“He very conveniently found the last-minute proof to get his client off,” Buffy scoffed.
“I thought it was good,” Willow stuck up for Spike.
“Me, too,” Dawn said. “Television doesn’t have to be like real life. Sometimes you just want happy endings.”
“That fight sequence was pretty good, though,” Buffy admitted.
“I thought those two were going to have sex,” Anya said. “They didn’t even kiss!”
“Yeah, they keep teasing us with that one. I’m beginning to think they’re never going to get together.” Spike shook his head unhappily.
“Come on, Dawn,” Buffy said, as she stood, folded her chair, and put it back in the bag, “Let’s get you home so I can patrol.”
“Okay, Buffy,” Dawn agreed, standing and folding her own chair.
“Xander, I want orgasms,” Anya said. “That was very frustrating.”
“O-kay,” Xander said. “Let’s go. Why don’t we just leave these chairs here - for next time we get together at Spike’s?” Xander tossed his beanbag chair into the corner.
“What?” Spike cried, horrified at the prospect. “No! Take them with you!”
They all ignored him. Xander, Anya, Buffy and Dawn left. He looked down at the redhead on his lap.
“Aren’t you leaving?” he asked. Willow just smiled.
“Why do you like that show?” she asked.
“‘Cause it’s a mystery, like. I like to puzzle it out. Figure out who did it, or why, or how. ‘Sides, they’re like a family. They squabble, but they’re all there for each other,” Spike explained.
“So, you’re just a big softie?” Willow asked. “Intellectual softie, I mean,” she clarified at Spike’s glare.
“I’m the big bad, luv. There’s nothing soft about me.”
“Well,” Willow wiggled her butt, “oh, no, not soft anymore! How about your lips?” She leaned towards him. “I bet your lips are soft.”